Cats, hedgehogs, small and larger birds, deer and, today, a small fox cub. It’s one thing living in a country town and being able to travel through the countryside to get anywhere, it is quite another when all the living nature I tend to see has lived its life and, fresh for all to see, has departed abruptly.

The tiny fox cub was absolutely perfect. A wonderful ginger color, well cared for fur and just so peaceful, lying there next to the roadway. With high temperatures forecast for the day, I was sure that he wouldn’t stay that way for long. I remember seeing a cat gradually get larger and larger, by fair weather, and then, after a few days, it was gone. A hedgehog which got fatter and fatter and then just lay there flat as a pancake, uncared for, uneaten, exploded.

The fox cub, though, was different. On the way back I saw that the local street maintenance team had been out doing its job. They had mown the grass growing alongside the roadway to a depth of one yard. The head of the fox cub was still there, perfect and peaceful, but the rest of its body had been mown away.

Even nature, so beautiful and peaceful in spring and the early summer, has its vicious side.